The Descendants
by Mediam Noctem
Summary: No one knows what happened. All that is known is the Consequence, the aftermath - Humanity was nearly destroyed, the Solar System corrupted. Nothing is as it seems. (AU)
1. Chapter 1: Descendants

I do not own Mass Effect.

Inspired by 'Transcendent Humanity' and the fascinating 'Encyclopedia Biotica'

* * *

"It does not take an intellectually gifted individual much difficulty to realize that there is something incredibly wrong with our solar system. Anomalies and unexplainable phenomenon are a fundamental part of the universe. When we aim our EM observation satellites or advanced sensory devices towards the night sky were expected to run into a couple of difficulties, an object seen from Mars would appear at a different location from Jupiter; a star appears in one place but doesn't at another; our local star, the sun, has unpredictable solar seasons. But none of this compares to what we do and do not see on our planets or in local space. Venus is more attuned to our organic counterparts preferences then Mars, despite the heavy rain and weather cycles. Every planet and habitable celestial body we have come across has experienced strange things in some form or way - phantom sightings, abnormal activity in the sky, _the whispers_ , or in more extreme cases, sudden disappearances. I myself, have experienced some of these things. But it was not until I accidentally came across the graveyard between Mars' and Venus' orbit, that I experienced the horrifying reality of what was _our_ Solar System..."

566-Grissom, ' _A variable in the Universe of Constants_ '

No one remembers what happened. All that is known was the Consequence, the result. A Great War had happened centuries ago, who fought and for what purpose, no one knows. All that is known was the Consequence: humanity was nearly destroyed, civilization was killed off, the planet of many names was lost, most knowledge had been removed, the past, forgotten. Pockets of humanity, man and machine, would arise on the ashes of dead worlds and within the orbital relics of a time long passed, with no memory, no clue as to who they were.

As time moved on, they would meet, flesh and iron, on planets, on orbital installations. Each time the contact was without violence. There would be no war. No sharing of hostilities. Just the acknowledgement that both searched for the very same thing, answers. Each shared similar shape. Each had no culture. Each had no identity. No purpose.

Aware that existence was pointless without one, man and machine decided that they would forge their own purpose, together.

It was on the impossibly large dunes of a red planet, under the orange light of a young star, that they would forge a truce. The purpose was unclear, the future unsure, the past unknown. An Alliance was needed if they would ever stand a chance to discover what happened, to contact any others like them, to reclaim what was once lost.

They united, man and machine. Together the Solar Alliance was formed. Together, the Solari were born.

Equipped with nothing but principle magnetoplasmadynamic thrusters, recovered Stanford torus ships, and primitive tightbeam communication systems, they traveled slowly across the vast blackness of space. From planet to planet, station to station, they searched. In the hopes of finding others like them and in a quest to discover answers to questions they did not know to ask, the Solar Alliance would explore the entire Solar System.

What they would found would instead puzzle them. Through the process of advanced mathematical-sciences, orbital mechanics and visible observation they predicted the vectors and locations of sites that caught their attention: planets, moons, asteroids and space stations. Yet upon arriving at these supposed locations they would come to find nothing but wreckage, or a planet that was hundreds of millions away. Understandably, they were confused. 'Did we do something wrong?' they would ask themselves. Secondary attempts to get to their location of choice achieved similar results, millions of miles off course, nothing but graveyards or empty space.

When they eventually got close to a planet or space installation, they would find even more mysteries within. Expedition teams who went exploring inside space stations would disappear. Those who did not, would come back insane, speaking about meeting copies of themselves within.

The planets were barely better.

It would be near the planet once known as Mercury that the Solar Alliance met a nomadic group of machines, the Sunwalkers. Across the equatorial line, the Sunwalkers would travel through the burning seas of Mercury with but one purpose: to watch what they described as a ghostly image of a white-towered landscape. Occasionally, a Sunwalker would break away from its group and disappear in its search of the White-Towers. Orbital observations could scantily provide any information over the so called "Sea of White Towers" apparitions.

The Solar Alliance would travel to a green planet close to Mars, known to its inhabitants as Venus. It was not under the canopy of the Amazonian forests that they would find another sign of civilization, but in the onyx colored skies. Like giant cities hanging in the air, thousands of large, floating skyscrapers held the planet's only inhabitants, a mix of man and machine. And like the rest of the Solar System, they too suffered from mysterious circumstances.

The metal towers that so many took residence in would change location at a whim. One moment they were over the Minwel Forest, the next, they were floating over the Waters of Tranquility with no explanation as to how or why.

Early exploration attempts by the Solar Alliance were not completely fruitless or mind breaking. Generation ships would be sent across all parts of the Solar System, tasked with exploring unknown space. Within a single century, the Jovian Colonies would be brought into the fold, asteroid habitats were created, the Sky Kites of Neptune would be explored and the excavation of Mars' Walled Cities expanded habitable space.

Science and technology also progressed as more and more relics were recovered, forgotten structures reopened, and ancient starships discovered. Inertialess drives, space elevators, Direct Conscious Transfer and massive manufacturing facilities pushed humanity forward.

But it was not enough.

With each new discovery, more questions arose and fewer answers were provided.

No clues had yet been found as to what or why of the Consequence. There were still no explanations for the why things are. No machines could recall their birth. Many installations still lied mysteriously, over skies, underground, within space, all with no discernible purpose. Many expeditionary teams disappear in the structures they explore. Trying to predict the vector of celestial objects is impossible, regardless of the supporting data, the location will always be off.

The biggest mysteries, however, are founded in the same decade by Inner and Outer Rim pioneers In the depths of a 10,000 kilometer large ice comet field on the outskirts of the solar system, lies an alien, tuning fork shaped structure. Already featuring a different appearance and size than most space stations, the Solar Alliance is cautious. Remote operating probes are sent to observe and investigate the inert structure. Considering the infamous status that comes with all space structures, it is better to send expensive but replaceable drones than live human and machine beings.

The observation and analysis takes decades, but the purpose of the structure is revealed. Like many things in the Solar System, it should not exist. The composition of the structure is nothing more than "locked subatomic molecules of strange make", making it impervious to nearly any form of damage. In the center of the structure lies a massive 'zero-matter' core that releases dark energy when exposed to electrical currents.

While it was not the first time the Solar Alliance had come across the element, it was the first time it had been discovered in such abundance. Unfortunately, the large structure only responds when 'zero-matter' is nearby. Curious as to find why, the Solar Alliance tasks ships to locate more of the strange element.

Due to the displacement and unpredictable shift of the Solar System's celestial bodies, the process took decades.

In the end however, the research was worth it.

Believing that the 'zero-matter' could assist in the propulsion and acceleration of space-vessels, the Solar Alliance invested in the process of synthesizers, machines capable of producing artificial forms of any needed elements. The results were a weaker form of 'zero-matter' that decayed much quicker then what normal 'zero-matter' did. Despite acknowledging the drawbacks of synthesized 'zero-matter', the Solar Alliance pushed onward, feeling the benefits would surpass any consequences.

Led by 566-Grissom, the famous explorer of the Graves Expedition, the first fleet of 'zero-matter' ships would soon find themselves in a different Solar System. Upon arrival, the expedition fleet began charting all constellations and analyzing all star maps in an attempt to locate the Sol System, strangely none of the stars looked different and despite the fleet's best attempts, the Solari could not find their own system. It was almost as if it did not exist. Two months would pass on the outside before Grissom and his fleet of starships returned.

Grissom would arrive to find an fleet he did not recognize, and three time more ships there than he left with. The welcome they got from the Sol Fleet was even more irregular, "We thought you had disappeared like the others. Where have you been for the past six years?"

Presuming the issue to be simply associated with time dilation from the newly dubbed "Zero Relay", the Solar Alliance hesitantly allowed his expeditionary group to be resent to what they deemed 'The Outside'.

Within the next Martian year, 566-Grissom's newly upgraded fleet would expand throughout the other systems; exploring and cataloging all the planets the Zero Relay would present to them. Six solar systems were explored before the forty-ship expedition fleet made the fateful error of opening another Zero Relay to Council-known space. A patrol fleet consisting of turian warships had been nearby when they noticed the activating Mass Relay. The Solari had numerous contingencies and protocols in place in the event of an extraterrestrial first contact, what they never prepared for however was hostile contact. Mistaking the Solari expedition fleet for a hostile invasion force by a new species, the turians followed protocol.

Two-meter thick titanium composite plates could do very little to protect against twenty kilogram slugs travelling at a fraction of light-speed. And within seconds, half of the Solar Alliance expedition fleet was taken out. Caught off guard by the sudden act of violence, the Solari were slow in their escape before another twelve ships were taken out. Based on past experiences, they assumed the new species to be a threat equal of the Rachni, as such fourteen warships gave chase with one staying behind to update incoming turian forces.

Only three Solari ships would make it back to the Sol System in one piece. Following close behind them were fourteen warships.

When the turian 5th fleet arrived to the Arcturus System, ready to provide assistance and handle any large-scale military warfare, they were surprised to find the fourteen ships that went into the Sol System waiting right outside the relay. Expecting the patrol fleet to report a suppression success or at least a request for additional reinforcements, they were astonished once again to find the fourteen ships inactive and showing signs of aging. The Turian 5th fleet, unsure how to proceed, decided to dock with the patrol fleet's vessels.

The soldiers sent to board the patrol fleet's ships would return minutes later, so disturbed and frightened that no one could get an answer from them. Any soldiers sent into the inert turian ships following them would also suffer from extreme fear. Tired of not getting any answers, the 5th fleet Admiral, Desolas Arterius, personally boards one of the vessels with his trusted Blackwatch guards.

Since boarding the ship, he would feel a creeping sense of dread. The walk to the bridge was uneventful, the halls were quiet, rooms completely empty, the walls were covered in strange, orange growth that would fade away as one neared it. Every time he entered a dark room he could see _shadows_ on the walls, and the feeling that people were watching him. The nail on the coffin came when Desolas and his team of Blackwatch entered the bridge. He had hoped to find dead turians, who valiantly worked until they died.

Instead, he found something that only the worst spirit stories would feature: twelve, blue, ghostly figures of bridge crew members seated at their stations. The moment Desolas let one foot enter the bridge, they would all turn to him simultaneously, their faces etched in eternal torment: eyes missing, mandibles bent in impossible ways, facial plates cracked. The silent screams were louder than Desolas expected. But, even more disheartening was the main screen in the room. For in turian blood was a warning written in palavenian speak-

 **"Heed our warning. Do not try. Do not follow. The Void does not welcome you."  
**


	2. Chapter 2: A woman of adventure

"…To this day, many of you do not know what happened. Why some of the bravest men and women I have ever known never came back, why the Solar Alliance has forbidden everyone but myself from ever setting foot on there ever again; why the entire solar orbit has been placed under extreme security measures, in what is the largest undertaking by Solar Alliance Peacekeepers. The answer is, simply put, that 'The Graves' represent the single most dangerous aspect in our existence: answers. Since the Consequence we have lived without answers to some of the biggest questions, we, as a civilization, have ever asked. And it is these very questions that push us forward, allow us to develop new and exotic technologies, research the mystical words of Those Before, and keep us going regardless of what darkness or obstacles lie in our path. Our entire existence has evolved around that sole quest. And it was on the black sands of that dreadful, dead world, that, for the first time, we had finally received these very answers. Answers that we had been seeking for but were never prepared to hear. Answers that would ultimately result in some of the bravest men and women I have ever known, deciding it was better to launch themselves towards the Spirit-of-Life than to continue living. Answers that if I ever revealed, would not only change the course of our lives, but ultimately destroy everything as we know it…"

556-Grissom, ' _A variable in the Universe of Constants'_

* * *

Switchback shuttles were notorious for their high noise levels and uncomfortable seats. The ship was completely automatic -autopilot and complicated geospatial programs coursing through the shuttle's veins- and completely safe. Or at least safe enough that the vacuum or radiation would not be directly responsible for your death. Virtually a composite plastic wedge with short, stubby wings and fins, Switchbacks were designed with cost effectiveness and utility in mind, making them perfect for short-range interplanetary trips or exploratory use. Imagine thirty seats divided between two rows against each wall, and the space between used for large industrial crates and containers. Under most circumstances extra leg space was a commodity that simply could not be afforded (or wasted) on the passengers.

But when you were the only person in what should have been an otherwise packed ride, being cozy was the last of your concerns. As if the recent security teams and windowless hold was not evident enough, the lack of stops on the shuttle left the sole passenger suspicious as to what was happening. Most exploration missions did not feature such… extreme security measures.

The cautious passenger, being one such member among the group of explorers known as Pathfinders, widened her hands as a holographic display flashed between her fingertips. Projected by micro-light field generators located on the wrists of her IEAS suit, the Pathfinder quickly ordered her suit to connect with the Exploratory Mission Assessment Networks. The main communications system used by official Solar Alliance explorers.

Rather than connect with her mission handler like she expected, she instead came into view with two faces: one being that of a pale, straight-jawed, bald man with cold green eyes and more wrinkles then she ever seen on any other living being.

' _High Lord Viktor Manswell'_ was highlighted under his face in bold red letters.

The other was a synthetic Solari with bright blue ocular sensors and an equally aged complexion. A lone antenna stood out from the back of his head. Three long, red, lined tattoos crossed through his face, before meeting together at the top of its forehead.

' _Vice Marshal 626-Anakel'_ was under the other, and just like the name before, it too was highlighted in red lettering.

Two of the most powerful individuals in Solar Alliance space, second to no one but the rest of the High Lords and the Grand Marshal herself, on the Pathfinder's holo-display… to say she was stunned by their unexpected appearance would be an understatement of epic proportions. What was more disconcerting was the look they gave her, neither one looked happy or surprised at her presence. Almost as if they had been expecting her.

For just the shortest of moments, the Pathfinder had a gut-wrenching feeling that she had done something extraordinarily wrong.

Ignoring her fearful face the Vice Marshal spoke, " _Apologies for the precautions Pathfinder, but the security measures were necessary. We could not have anyone interfering with your new orders, yourself included."_

The woman frowned at the cold statement. It did not sound right in the slightest.

"Vice Marshal 626, I have dedicated ten years of my life to the exploration of uncovered territory and the studies of our past. Yet, not once have I seen such unusual use of resources in an exploration mission. Regardless, I keep to my oath of sacrifice, accepted the consequences or circumstances that may fall upon myself one day, the possibility that I may never come back from one of my missions. The assumption that I would-

High Lord Viktor Manswell would be the one to reply, this time in a despondent tone, the first sign of emotion she had seen from a person of someone his age. " _Through sacrifice we reclaim what was once stolen. We know the oath young Pathfinder. We do not question your honor or courage, nor your adversity in the face of darkness. But_ we _are not asking you to investigate a derelict space station or a Forgotten City, we are asking much more now. We are asking you to make the ultimate sacrifice in the name of the Greater Good."_

She felt the shuttle shake. Ever since she had taken the starcruiser to Mars she had suspected something was wrong. As if the been seated in windowless rooms, isolated away from everyone else, and being given a debriefing _a_ High Lord of Sol and the Vice Marshall themselves was not a large enough indicator. Obviously, they did not want her to see where she was going; neither did they want anyone to see her.

"I don't understand. If you're asking me to investigate the Sea of White Towers or the Floating Titans I would be more than-"

The Vice Marshall cut her off mid-sentence with a gesture of his hand. " _Pathfinder, there will be no more missions or expeditions. You will no longer take orders from the Solar Alliance. No doubt you have heard of the return of 566-Grissom's fleet?"_

The young woman nodded her head in agreement. She was just a child when 566-Grissom left on his second expedition to 'the Outside'. While that gave him a near heroic status amongst the Solari, the 'Graves Expedition' was what made him a legend, among Pathfinders and others. It was that, which made him the most recognized individual of Solari space, it was he that inspired many to become Pathfinders. 566-Grissom was, without a doubt, the single most recognized figure in Solar Alliance history. So when part of his fleet returned days ago, of course she had heard of it.

" _Only three of 566-Grissom's expeditionary ships have returned from 'the Outside', bearing grave and horrendous news-_ " Lord Viktor exhaled slowly and loudly, almost as if simply stating the news was some kind of crime. It was easy to see why. "-m _ost of the expedition fleet has been destroyed. The casualties, including 566-Grissom, were all caused by unnatural death."_

The Pathfinder's grey eyes flickered over to the right. For a moment, she thought she heard a voice coming from the other side of the passenger bay.

Her attention quickly returned to the holo-display, the Pathfinder's mind began working at a million miles per hour. Unnatural death implicated that an individual (or group of people in this case) was killed by external and unnatural factors. People suddenly disappearing across space, vanishings, or even accidental deaths were all 'natural deaths'. For an unnatural death to be, that would suggest that something was purposely doing the killing. It was heart breaking. Her parents had died to unnatural death when some lunatic decided to blow apart an asteroid. As a Pathfinder, many of her own Pathfinder friends had fallen to 'Natural death' when they disappeared mid-exploration.

566-Grissom was an idol to her, someone she could relate to and read about. He held a lot of weight on his shoulders especially after the 'Graves Expedition', he was respected but above all, he never thought himself above others. Losses like his reminded the young woman of the cold hard truth of reality. In the Sol System, nothing was truly permanent; anything could change in a whim. But apparently, the same could be said of the Outside.

She lay back in her uncomfortable seat. Was there any place to escape the pain? The loss? Is there not some place in the galaxy where death was less of a daily part of life and more of a rare and unfortunate occurrence?

High lord Viktor would continue, ignoring the young woman's obvious anguish, _"The three ships that returned spoke of an Outside Fleet, powerful and relentless, their weapons capable of destroying ships in single hits. Those that returned were the only survivors of the attack, and they had warned us that the Outsiders were nearby. Our ships are incapable…"_

The rest of the words slowly faded away, turning into nothing but faint echoes bouncing across the hold.

'Just another variable to add into the mix' 566-Grissom was once quoted as saying. As if the fuck-up that was the Solar System was not enough, now they had to include hostile Outsiders.

But what had the young Pathfinder wondering was what exactly his death had to do with her unless…

"Marshal, the Solari are not gathering Pathfinders for some kind of fleet of war correct?!"

The grainy image of Vice Marshal Kris shook his head in a cool and crisp manner. " _No young one. We have the ships and relics of Those Before, but we are still very far from accessing, much less understanding their weaponry. We cannot hope to sacrifice Solari lives in some mislead attempt to eliminate 'the Outsiders'. Instead we did what we had to, and found another way of fighting back the invading menace. We needed a way to stop them and so a deal was struck by those who could provide us the assistance."_

Her grey eyes widened at the realization of what he was suggesting. Could they have been so dense? Ignore every warning given by 566-Grissom?

They were suggesting one option. One very terrifying, and unethical option.

As if reading her mind, the aged Marshal would answer her in what felt like the most-drawn out answer ever. " _They have already defeated the Outsiders and told us that none of them would ever return. In exchange we would offer them something they wanted. I am sorry for your sacrifice. But for reasons undeclared they have requested for you specifically. We are in no position to deny their re-"_

Those would be the last words the young woman would ever hear before the signal suddenly cut off.

It was at that moment that the Pathfinder finally noticed that the shuttle had stopped. The loud roar of the ion engines was missing, the hull was not vibrating, and the ship was completely silent.

The Pathfinder had arrived at her destination.

And she was never alerted to it. That meant the shuttle was using noise-cancelling technology and gravitational controllers to hide the turbulence.

 _Bastards._

She placed on her domed helmet, the breathing apparatus molding and attaching to her face. She threw the IEAS's hood over her helmet when the rest of her suit was secured. The depressurization process in the airlock was the longest that she ever experienced.

It felt like years before the square door slid across, casting everything inside the shuttle in an ominous green glow. The Pathfinder extended her arm out in front of her eyes as if to block the light. Her visor could not, for some reason, polarize and adjust to the light level.

She brought one leg forward and entered the near-blinding light.

What she saw outside was captivatingly beautiful and terrifying in every sense of the word. The light originated from the sky. It was a mix of colors: seen and unseen. Her chromium eyes had never seen such a wide variety of strange and unusual effects at once. The sky was filled with bright dancing lights of green and purple, overlapping waves of exotic particles that hugged ever so closely towards the black veil of the impossible sky. Auroras. Her domed visor reflected hues of so many colors.

She stood there, staring for a few minutes at the enchanting sights.

Grey eyes shifted to the landscape in time, and just like that, the image of the amazing sky disappeared. The Pathfinder's view was replaced by something so… wrong. So unnatural that, for the first time in her life, the Pathfinder felt raw primal fear, the feeling developed mostly by sentient beings when they encountered something truly fearful and frightening. An overwhelming sense of dread and terror when facing what not even the most creative of imaginations could imagine much less see.

The ground was covered in black sand that stretched into the horizon. The air was the wrong color; the mountains and dunes in the distance were constantly shifting and shaking almost as if they were giant angry beings or did not know where they belonged.

And then the realization of it hit her after a few minutes.

She was the first person in two-hundred years, since 566-Grissom left this world, to have been given permission to be here.

It was here, where 566-Grissom made history.

Here, where two thousand Pathfinders decided flinging themselves into the Sun was a preferable option than to continue living.

Here, the greatest monument and symbol of the Consequence.

She was standing in 'The Graves'.

The planet where the greatest atrocity to life happened, caused by forces incomprehensible, powers immeasurable. Where the line between reality and impossibility were broken. Where even the strongest minds could falter and go insane attempting to understand this lifeless place.

The only place where everything never was and nothing will always be.

The world once known to Those Before… as Earth.

The Pathfinder looked around the great plains of black sand, over the graves of countless souls, through the echoes and ghosts of times long passed, and came to a terrifying awareness.

She was not alone.

* * *

 **Reading all these reviews I only have to say one thing. Some of you are on spot... but all of you are very far off.**

 **Drake: Event Horizon is the name of the movie you are thinking of.**

 **Khazininthedark: Do not worry.**

 **Solaris242: Reviewing my story? I am honored.**

 **Sollitus: If you are confused about what is going on then that means I am doing my job right.**


	3. Chapter 3: Pupae

"…cannot be ignored. Regardless of whatever screening measures or black ink we put over this, the discovery of the Outsiders and subsequent death of 566-Grissom will be leaked eventually. Unfortunately, that is only the tip of the iceberg, as of yesterday morning another pressing concern has arised from recent events. Following our previous conference, I had decided upon contacting the Prime Knowing and Speaker of Wisdom, 1-Athena, for advice. Our conversation lasted less than five minutes before she ended it with some… world-shattering information as her departure via vanishing. Protectors of Sol, I think it is time to recognize that there are powers in play that we cannot fight, by that, the Voiddancers and Outsiders, through conventional means. We need to protect our civilization from these… menaces. I formally request permission to activate the DCT PARA/M in our Peacekeepers, as well as place all members of the Knowing under temporary isolation..."

-Grand Marshal Sam Yung Lo, during the most recent Solar Polity Emergency Action and Response conference

* * *

Across seventeen unique dialects, the Solari had two hundred words for death. Curiously enough, one hundred and eighty seven of them could be matched to 'the Graves'.

'The Graves'.

A crude name that could scarcely describe the dead world lying between the orbit of Mars and Venus.

A dead world where sacrifices were common place, whether it be mental, physical, or spiritual. Something always had to be sacrificed to understand, to know.

In the case of the lone Pathfinder wandering across a desolate black dune, under the invisible fingers of angry gods and in the twilight of infinite worldlines, the sacrifice was her sanity. Unable to get in touch with any of Alliance Networks, the Pathfinder was reaching the end of her limit, both psychologically and emotionally. And as she progressed, if one could call it that, her thoughts began to wander to a darker place.

It started when she left the Switchback shuttle, when her eyes found themselves settling upon a wicked sight.

Her visor utilized a complex sensor matrix, capable of detecting living life forms from ranges of over a kilometer away, so long as they were larger than her hand. So when she saw the three ghastly, blue figures standing-no, _hovering_ like Ghosts over a silent and empty plane, she was surprised to see that her helmet never picked them up.

Unsure of what she was looking at, the Pathfinder's fight-or-flight instincts had kicked in. It was overwhelming, like being excited, scared, and angry all at once. On one end she wanted to be anywhere else but here. Go anywhere except where those three beings were.

But she felt some kind of pull, something against those urges to escape.

Another feeling crawling between pulsing neurons, past the delicate flesh and warm blood of the thinking mind.

The instinct that every sentient being, whether organic or synthetic, shared in this universe: the need to know.

All matter of thoughts and consciousness disappeared when the Pathfinder began moving her feet. Step by step. It was an unconscious choice of course, like a moth attracted to a flame, the Pathfinder had decided to make the journey to the blue figures, the site of where knowledge could be gleamed.

Unknown to the Pathfinder at the time, that would mark the very beginning of a new chapter in the universal story. A moment in time, seemingly inconsequential, yet so impacting that its actions would be felt across the galaxy... but not until its very end, when the skies of many worlds became black and poisoned with the flaming spires of ancient gods.

When it became too late for the Pathfinder.

Until then, the insignificant and young woman would continue making her decisions with the emotional-logic of a Solari, ignorant of the effect her actions had on everything.

Silently progressing across the dark dunes of 'The Graves', her eyes locked on the target that seemed right on the edge of her grasp. The Pathfinder kept her eyes on the holographic display of the Isolated Environmental Activity Suit's (IEAS) helmet, checking for any fluctuations in radiation levels, exotic particle effects, or even signs of movement nearby.

So far radiation levels were low, at least low enough not to cause any immediate concern. However, there were 'exotic' particles everywhere. Due to her isolation though; she was incapable of accessing the Pathfinder Information Networks to determine of what kind they were or what impact they had on the environment. But for now, her IEAS had determined no ill effects on her health.

A beep on the Pathfinder's motion sensor interrupted the rest of her observation. According to the readout, something or _someone_ was standing five meters behind her. Adrenaline accelerated her movements, and instincts commanded her actions as she whipped her head backwards… only to find nothing.

Nothing but the black sand. Cautiously she took one step, then two, forward. The Pathfinder kept her head straight and once again, the holographic motion sensor detected another movement from behind her.

Another turn, no results.

It would go on like that for a while; a few steps, a beep, nothing. No matter how quickly she turned to look back, no matter how long she stared at the black sand, there we be nothing but that blasted black sand.

That was just the tip of the iceberg on this mind-wracking experience, no matter how far or long she walked, the young woman could never seem to get any closer to reaching her spectral observers. They always seemed to be be right on the next sand dune, but when she got to the top, they would be on next hill. Disturbingly enough, there were no tracks or footprints to mark their movements.

Bringing into question of the state of the three blue figures. _Who or what are they?_

As minutes turned to hours and hours into a blurry, over-extended moment in time, the Pathfinder would come across even more mysteries in the desolate desert: bodies.

Bodies started appearing after another hour of endless walking, all wearing the same, exact thing.

She wasn't sure of what to be more scared of, the hundreds of bodies lying face down on the ground, some nothing but decaying flesh, others no more than bone.

Or the fact that they were all wearing black armor with orange highlights, the iconic color scheme of the Alliance's bravest.

The Pathfinders.

She was surrounded by the bodies of hundreds of Pathfinders.

All she could do was kneel down and give a quick prayer to the Spirit-of-life, wishing safe journeys and recreation for their unfortunate souls. The anger overcame her, and for a while, the Pathfinder stared into the glowing sky, the lights reflecting off her helmet. She envisioned herself in infront of the High Lords and the Marshals of the Alliance, yelling- no, screaming at them for answers.

This was inhumane, a crime against life. But after being thrown into this Sol-Forsaken planet with no explanation as to why, it was easy to acknowledge that maybe the Solar Alliance was never what the vids and lessons made it out to be. If they was willing to leave Pathfinders on dead worlds for the "Greater Good", sacrifice lives for some sinister purpose that no one knew, then what else were they capable of? What else did the "Greater Good" justify?

Since birth, everyone was taught that the Solar Alliance was the only hope for peace in a galaxy where nothing made sense. That only if everyone worked together could problems be solved, can sense be made out of the nonsensical. Every living being in the Sol System made the vow, to protect the Solar Alliance, to give up their lives if it was necessary.

Being a Pathfinder was the considered the greatest honor that any normal citizen could achieve in their lifetimes. And with it came the greatest risks that any position could offer. Apparently, that risk also included being abandoned on the most isolated and forbidden location within the Origin System, and for what? What did they want from her?

The Pathfinder's next action marked how much she had given up. Maybe it was angst, desperation, or anger that overcame her. But she threw off her helmet with no thought. Maybe she had just gone mad. But being in a graveyard full of Pathfinders did not seem like a coincidence, if anything it felt intentional, like fate. Was it the planet telling her to accept the inevitability of death? Was it sign?

The silence would be the one to answer.

Hurt and depressed, the Pathfinder continued straight ahead, respectively moving around when she saw a fallen Pathfinder in her path. She took the time to look at the mountains across the distance, to observe the heavenly display of light from below. A stolen glance and the Pathfinder could see the footprints she left in the sand.

The never ending display of the auroras made it impossible to discern whether it was even light or day. The black dunes looked the same everywhere you went, in time, the Pathfinder began to feel weaker and tired. Reserve water ran out quickly and the three meager protein bars she carried in the pouches surrounding her waist disappeared. All concepts of time just ended there. With no helmet to tell her the present, she would lose track of time.

Her mouth became painfully dry after countless hours of walking through the black deserts. The thirst was unquenchable and even the attempts to swallow her own spit left the Pathfinder even more desperate. And it was at that moment that she regretted throwing away her helmet. The young woman's physical and mental state was deteriorating rapidly as she inched closer and closer to the overlying mountains.

But the hallucinations would get to her first.

The Pathfinder knew she was delirious the moment she thought she saw dozens of people _pop out_ of the sand like a burrowing creature. They would stare at her with their rotting faces and lifeless eyes, wearing their broken black and orange armor. It scared her beyond words but at this point there was nothing she could do. A very small portion of her wanted the hallucinations to end her misery.

But 'the Graves' would show her no pity.

She would continue onward (or maybe backwards?), aching feet leading the young woman's body.

The next apparition was ironic: High Lord Manswell and Vice Marshal 626 stood waiting for her on the other side of a dune, arms folded. Manswell would be the first one to speak when the Pathfinder got close enough, "What has taken you so long young Pathfinder? Have you not had enough? The Pathfinders before you did, why should you continue?" he would ask.

626 was hardly any better, watching the stumbling Pathfinder with eyes full of disapproval he scold her in ways she never heard before. "You're pathetic and weak. You were never brave enough to begin with, you couldn't even save your friends when you had to. Your parents realized the futility in keeping you and decided that sacrificing themselves was better then staying with you, why don't you just finish the job? Perhaps 566-Grissom was right in dying, seeing the Solari's future depend on Pathfinders like you would drive any sane man to their own end." Dry tears found their away across her face, but the Pathfinder didn't stop walking.

Eventually their insults faded into the silence and the Pathfinder was left alone once again. In time her legs gave out and she would collapse, she was an empty shell of her former self, walking the line between life and death. All she could do was think about the pain, of thirst, of sorrow, of being here.

One of her final actions for the time being was to move her head around enough to look into the glowing night. If the Pathfinder were to die soon, she would want to do it looking into the eyes of expanse, the unexplored blackness of space, at the root of all her pain.

What she would find instead would confuse her, leaving the last of her active synapses trying to rationalize the impossible sight in front of her. The Pathfinder stared at the view overhead before blinking twice to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

The colors were gone, the sky was black... like the sand, and she was looking at someone standing upside down.

The figure was helmetless. Grey eyes, cold and helpless, locked on the Pathfinder. Dark hair, more akin to raven then true black, in a bun. Armor black, with orange highlights. Figure compact.

 _Hell of a way to go out._

It took a moment for the unsuspecting mind to register what she was looking at, how similar the figure was to the Pathfinder.

Because the figure _was_ the Pathfinder.

She pondered over the hallucinations for a moment, was there some hidden meaning, a purpose in seeing herself like this? Was that all her existence amounted to? Years of losing people, sleepless weekends, and hard work to watching yourself break down (physically and mentally) on what amounted to a living testament of humanity's greatest mistake? Did anything she ever do really matter?

The last thing she would see was the look of surprise on her own face before suddenly blacking out.

The darkness that consumed her felt right... for a just a moment all her pain, her memories, herself faded away; like a weight taken off your shoulders. Before the moment the Pathfinder could achieve true peace, a voice, one that would haunt her for years to come, sounding disturbingly like her mother's, whispered in her ear.

"Take advantage of the darkness little one, soon, the Void will scare it away."

* * *

 **KhazintheDark: Hmmm**

 **Kyren: That being said, if anyone likes the morally grey, grim stories, then I recommend checking out LogicalPremise's page, he has some fantastic EU works that would make any mass effect lore fan squeal in excitement**

 **Tairen3305: Glad to know that you have taken time to read this story**

 **Author's notes**

Its great to see all you guys reviewing this stuff and enjoying my story. If you have any likes, comments, or theories feel free to review, and thanks for reading.

Now unto the story itself, this marks the official end of the Pathfinder's introductory arc. Next up, we find out what happened to the turian patrol fleet and the unlucky ships that responded to their appearance. Until next time, thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4: A woman of science

Author's Note: Lets start this weekend... with a bang.

* * *

" _In the dark of dreams, a soul can die."_

* * *

Liara T'Soni had been taught her entire life to fear the unknown.

From place to place, she been told to be apprehensive about everything, and believe nothing. Never was she to swim in deepest parts of the Great Oceans, to climb the silver range, to wonder about the mysterious ruins of an extinct civilization.

" _The Darkness consumes all equally, in equally different ways_." her mother would cryptically reply as if the excuse was trivial.

Perhaps it was for that reason that she had decided to specialize in archaeology, to upset her cynical mother and show that she was fully capable of making her own decisions. And for forty years, the young maiden did just that. Her entire life was dedicated to the research and study of pre-historical artifacts – Protheans and other xenoarcheological anomalies.

The young woman's travels had taken her everywhere across the galaxy.

No stone was left unturned as she desperately sought answers for the disappearances of so many civilizations, the absolute absence of any precursor species that had originally dominated the galaxy. It was perplexing to believe that so many galactic empires could suddenly fall with only the barest indication to their enigmatic existence. The process was too meticulous. The end results, too similar.

And so she had spent years fine-tuning and polishing her theories, finally writing a series of papers that she submitted to the Thessian University of Intellect under her own name.

They read it of course, and quickly criticized the "outrageous proposition that the systemic destruction of the Prothean Empire and those before were in fact, completely based on some malicious, all-powerful entity that had been purposely eliminating sufficiently advanced races through some preposterous cyclic extinction process." She was quickly laughed out of scientific discussions, her theories and ideology considered too extreme, too wild and unorthodox.

For a while, she stumbled on the precipice of self-destruction, the existentialist crisis that forced one to call into question the meaning and purpose of their own life as the pillars that held her reality were knocked down one by one. It was a dark period and for years, the woman of science had wandered to distant planets in hopes of not only finding out the answers to her questions, but the questions to her answer.

Her journey's destination would eventually lead her to the small planet of Therum were she would spend the next four years in solitude, investigating prehistoric ruins that had long since been picked clean by scavengers and corporate officials alike. Her fellow scientists would come and depart, fresh faces would periodically arrive; while the old, weary faces would leave. The memories of so many people blurred together, she wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between them.

Yet she would remain. The search had already cost her too much. Her investments were based out of the ruins she stayed in, lived in, worked in. Nothing existed did not exist out of the brimstone walls and weathered rock of the Prothean outpost. If she would leave Therum, it would not be as a failure.

By some stroke of luck – a discussion with a fellow man of science would yield some results to her time-consuming efforts. An isolated research outpost known as Sera Station was looking for a specific kind of xenoarchealogist, people who were as open-minded and full of imagination as her.

An application was sent in, but if previous experiences were anything to go by – she was better off with no expectations.

Too many nights where she cried herself to sleep or drank herself into a deep slumber remained fresh in her mind.

Such experiences had only taught her only to expect one thing from the universe… and that was nothing.

It took two weeks for her to question such a strict and outlook on life. An Optical Storage Device, as simple and small as they were, arrived to her outpost with news of a reply. She had been skeptical of course, presuming it would be another message of denial. And so for days, the young woman of science had hesitated with opening the small storage unit.

Until she eventually gathered up enough courage to view the message.

The information provided was surprisingly brief – essentially a quick confirmation and congratulatory statement, followed by a ticket and location to meet. For the first time in years, the archaeologist had cried in joy. She packed all her items: some scientist dress wear and a bracelet given to her by her mother.

All she ever had.

The archaeologist would leave with her full attention focused on what lay ahead, rather than behind. In time her presence would be forgotten. Her work lost within the ever-shifting waves of contrasting theories and explanations.

Despite how unpleasant the trip was (an encounter with a vorcha had left her clothes with a stench that she simply could not get rid of) Liara would never forget her first sight of Sera Station. Its impeccable curves, the multi-torus layout, and its silver, solar-paneled surface.

Built to station over fifteen-thousand of the Citadel's best and brightest – it was a shining example of the Joint Powers Initiative- a program aimed to unite the species of the Citadel through the investigation and analysis of the galaxy's greatest mysteries.

As such, Sera Station was operated by men of science from every section of the galaxy, of people of all shapes and sizes.

Meant to tackle on everything from scientific theories to social experiments to studies in biotics, Sera Station was a scientist's paradise and only one of twelve such isolated "intensive" research facilities across galactic space.

Arriving from a three-day long trip, the asari maiden welcomed the sour smell of the "sterile" environment, its reflective flooring. It was a welcome change from the dry, astringent taste of brimstone and sulfur.

For the next four months, Liara had participated in numerous investigations – most involving Prothean and Insunnanon artifacts – with people who were equally as interested in the past as her. In time, she would even consider her co-workers as close friends.

For just one moment, life was… perfect.

Everything made sense.

And then reality hit.

Word had quickly spread around the station that the medical division had been tasked with doing an autopsy over a series of recovered bodies.

Turian bodies.

And providing assistance in an "advisory" capacity – the infamous Blackwatch themselves. Arguably the most lethal Special Operations Unit in existence, the assignment of Hierarchy troops to Sera Station made a lot of people nervous. Everywhere they went conflict spawned and atrocities took place.

Their last operation had resulted in the demolition of Srigils sky-district and the cruel, brutal deaths of over fifteen thousand turian citizens, with twice the amount missing. It had been recorded by dozens of news outlets and informative networks who had quickly slammed the Hierarchy for allowing such destruction on their planets.

But it was not until individuals started missing, that "sleeping" scientists were caught wondering the hallways in the middle of the night-cycle blabbering incoherently about an infinite void, or the never-ending whispers found themselves the subject of every topic; that many began to worry about the presence of the Blackwatch.

The blame was quickly shifted towards the Blackwatch, who until their presence, everything had been working fine.

Unfortunately, by the time anyone did anything it was already too late.

Liara T'Soni had been sleeping soundly when _it_ happened. Underneath the soft cover of a luxurious sapphire-hue comforter, she had been resting – her snoring faint under the gentle hum of the temperature regulating instrument that lie above her covered head.

When all of a sudden, the floor vibrated and emergency lights were engaged. Rays of sinister, red light descended from the ceiling, mutating her usually soft facial features and leaving the face of a ghost in its wake.

She made a single violent gasp not a moment after, her head shooting up and chest rising quickly as she took in deep, exaggerated breathes. The red flashes within the room blinded her instantly. Breathing was impossible. The combination of lights and silent noise overwhelming her senses. Then it stopped, her eyes opened, carefully this time. For a moment, she didn't recognize her own quarters, the nightmare interfering with her ability to determine what was reality and what was part of a distant and dying dream.

A brief moment of panic. Then the recognition sinked in – wooden armoires and 3-D printed furniture. Science uniform lay carefully on the side of the drawer. Picture of mother on the bed-side night dresser. Red lights blinking in rapid succession. A quick inspection around the room, and Liara quickly acknowledged it to be real as the wet feeling of her clothes.

Peeling off the sticky bedsheets and sweaty clothing was easy – she quickly disposed of them, dropping them unceremoniously beside her bed. The next step was to figure out what was happening. She swiped the two-piece uniform off the flamewood surface. She slid into the green and white synthweaves with practiced ease, only stopping to steal one last glance of the picture of mother, the look of her face and the bright yellow dress she had worn on that day.

Her attention returning elsewhere, Liara T'Soni exited her room with an omni-tool in hand.

She tipped toed her way through seemingly desolate halls. Outside of the soft hum of ventilation fans and the low buzz of flickering emergency lights, the only noticeable sound within the hallway was that of Liara's shallow breathes, followed by the rhythmic rise and drop of her feet.

For reasons still not apparent to her, the entire station seemed mysteriously deserted. With the emergency lights pulsing across the deck, it seemed inconceivable that no one else would be evacuating. For reasons not yet revealed to her, all rooms were seemingly and frighteningly empty. In either direction of the hall, which seemed a lot longer then what she remembered, there lay not a single tangible soul.

 _Almost as if_ -

A sudden noise, faint and distant, yet alarming in nature caused Liara T'Soni to pause mid stride. _Oh, goddess_. It was an awful thing to hear. A blood-curling shriek, coming from the down the hall. She placed a hand over her mouth, to keep herself silent as the red lights pulsated and bathed the floors and walls in an ominous glow. The archaeologist tried to look down the hall, only to be met with more of the bastard red lights.

The screaming ended, the air sinking back into a terrifying silence.

The asari glanced in either direction of the endless halls. The solid hexagonal tiles seemed like they getting closer, the halls smaller then what she remembered. Yet the walls also seemed distant, eerie. They had their own emotion, threatening to confine her, entrap her in solid cage of cold metal.

She hardly noticed the slow moving fans above her coming to an abrupt stop. The blow of cold air that slid across her body. From her spot, she could see the emergency lights in the distance suddenly coming to a stop, before abruptly blinking out of existence. Liara turned towards the other side of the hallway, where one by one, the same phenomenon occurred.

The emergency lights shut off one after another.

There was something off about it, outside of the awareness that it shouldn't have been possible to begin with. The actions were organic, it was't a precise error or mechanical failure, the way the Darkness penetrated the light were as if it came from long-lasting enemies. The way light acted before the walls of inky blackness was impossible. The inverse-square law simply did not apply, as the light simply ended. It proceeded before each light as if it were primal hunger manifesting itself as an aspect of the universe.

Darkness was no longer the absence of light. Light was the absence of Darkness.

 _Blink. Blink. Darkness. Blink. Blink. Darkness._

A sudden chill came creeping up her spine. The young woman felt her arms pushing away from the incoming darkness, but with the paths being placed under a perpetual cloak – with the Darkness consuming both of her routes, she felt her grasp on the situation slipping. Her options were literally peeling away with every second, as the Darkness neared.

Her peripheral vision picked up movement. She glanced over her shoulder, feeling something was behind her.

A faint outline.

A shadow.

The impenetrable black wall was five lights away in either direction. No more then a few meters away from where she stood

 _Blink. Blink. Darkness._

Four lights.

 _Blink. Blink. Darkness._

The asari felt her chest threatening to give in. Her heart pounding in her chest. Ears going deaf at the thumping noise within. The air was getting colder.

 _Blink. Blink. Darkness._

Liara was petrified, disturbed by the events unfolding around her. She had no means of controlling the situation. Standing under one of the few remaining light sources, before the Darkness that inched closer by each waking moment, the asari found the means to sit. She shook uncontrollably, her slim arms hugging her knees to her chest.

 _Blink. Blink. Darkness._

She sat before the throes of the shadow's embrace. Her remaining bastion of hope, the dying light above, winked out of existence.

 _Darkness._

Something brushes her back. Something miraculous happens, a pull, unlike anything she had ever experienced, tugging at her mind and body. Threatening to draw her in. She didn't want to, but it was not her choice. It had never been her choice... and never would be. Her fate had been decided.

Her last experience - a most gentle whisper that stood out amongst the pandemonium of tormented voices. It sounded just like mother's, but disfigured.

" ** _They are hungry. They are here._** _"_

* * *

Authors note: Well, points to anyone who gets the reference to "the Awakening". I want to establish the observational roles that Liara and the Pathfinder will play in this story. Ms. Science sees the bigger picture - it will be through her eyes that the galaxy at large will experienced. Ms. Voyager's focus remains on the Sol System - all traditions and customs of the Solari will be felt and acknowledged through her point of view. I left room of course to expand on the state of the universe, but it is up to you to put those pieces together. Each and every chapter so far has hinted to what is or isn't.

Solaris242: Checkmate. ;) Now its your turn to update.

Lord of Demise: You should've read this ;)

Monki-Neko: I've already given everyone that answer... twice. You just haven't realized it yet. :)

* * *

" _I've spent enough time in the company of death to know how it works. Only the difference now is that you welcome me in person, Mother._ "

Next up: more mysteries, more pain, and more bodies related to a certain task-group that went to somewhere they weren't wanted.


End file.
